


Walk Before You Run

by der_tanzer



Series: Between Carson and King Harbor [2]
Category: Emergency!, Riptide (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:24:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203906
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/der_tanzer/pseuds/der_tanzer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Murray is up and around but he can’t wait to get back to bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Walk Before You Run

Five weeks after their return from sea, Murray’s broken leg was declared healed and he began to walk without assistance. He still couldn’t lift or carry much—not that he could before, really—but he was thrilled to be able to go up and down the stairs freely, not to mention shower alone. The only thing better than having friends to lean on was not having to lean on them.

Johnny Gage came over two or three times a week during his recovery and stayed the night when he could. As they grew closer, he took over more of Murray’s care and Murray began to look forward to being bathed and dressed by his lover, who no longer felt like a nurse. It was playful and fun, fooling around in the shower and then trading blowjobs in bed, trying to be quiet and laughing too loudly at their consistent lack of success. Nick and Cody were remarkably tolerant, only mentioning once a day how much they were looking forward to moving Murray back to his own room, and the possibility of him spending the night at Johnny’s apartment once in a while.

The day the brace came off for good was also the first time Johnny broached the subject of his love life with Roy. They stopped for lunch at a hotdog stand on their way back from a call and Johnny suggested they eat in the squad.

“Murray’s seeing his orthopedist today,” he said with forced casualness.

“Yeah? How’s he doing?”

“Good. I mean, I was over there on our last day off and he was okay. A little stir-crazy, maybe.”

“I would be, too.”

“No kidding.” Johnny put down his hotdog half-eaten and turned toward Roy. “He wants to stay over at my place tomorrow night.”

Roy was a little taken aback by that, uncertain what the problem was or what kind of answer he should give. The last he knew for sure about his friend’s love life was the conversation they’d had on the boat about Murray wanting a lover, not a nurse. Johnny had admitted to “having sex”, but he hadn’t volunteered any details and Roy hadn’t asked.

“Is that a problem?” he asked now, keeping his voice carefully even.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I mean, things have been going really well and I’d love to be alone with him. Not that Cody and Nick aren’t great, but I always kind of feel them looking over my shoulder, you know?”

“Sure, that makes sense. So what’s the problem?”

“Well, with the extra privacy and Murray finally being able to move, he’s probably going to expect—more.”

Roy glanced over at him and saw a dark flush creeping up his cheeks. Johnny didn’t even try to meet his eyes.

“And you don’t want—more?”

“No, I do. It’s just kind of scary. He’s such a—a fragile little guy. I’m afraid he’s going to want me to do something that’s going to hurt him. But if I refuse, that’ll hurt him, too, right?”

“I don’t know him well enough to say,” Roy shrugged.

“That’s not helpful.”

“No, but look at it this way. The women you’ve been with, they were mostly more experienced than you, right?”

“I guess. I only slept with the really persistent ones.”

“So they knew what they wanted, right? Did you have all these doubts then?”

“No, but that was different. I didn’t really care that much, for one thing. I don’t think I ever hurt anyone physically, but if I did, I didn’t want to see them again anyway. Murray actually matters.”

“I understand that,” Roy said patiently. “But he’s experienced, right?”

Johnny nodded grudgingly. He didn’t like to think about his lover’s delicate, pliable body in anyone else’s hands.

“So he’ll let you know what to do. Somehow I don’t think he’d be as bold and determined as he is if he wasn’t pretty confident that he could control the situation. Just let him.”

“I guess. It’s just not how I’m used to doing things, you know? Whenever I’ve gone into new situations, I’ve at least been trained for it.”

“There are probably books you could read,” Roy offered, knowing that was a longshot.

“You don’t think I’m too old to learn?”

“I think it’s too late to be asking that. Besides, after everything you’ve learned in the last six weeks, why stop now?”

Johnny grunted acknowledgment and turned back to his hotdog. It was cold now but he ate it anyway.

***

Johnny worked the rest of his shift, responding to two car wrecks, putting out a fire and resuscitating a man who’d had a heart attack, and got a little sleep overnight. While he was doing that, Murray was moving back into his room on the boat and lying in his lumpy little cot for the first time in two months. Not that he got a lot of sleep. He spent most of the night staring at the ceiling and thinking about tomorrow. He’d never been to Johnny’s apartment. They’d talked about it some, but in the end they decided it was too much risk for the potential reward. Now the risks were much lower and the reward was likely to be tremendous.

Murray went shopping that afternoon and took two bags of groceries over to the apartment. Johnny would be home at three and he intended to have a nice meal ready. Something difficult to make that wouldn’t keep. Something they wouldn’t try to cook at the station. They could have an early dinner, maybe watch the sunset, and then spend a leisurely evening in bed finding out what sex was like without a broken leg.

It was impossible not to look around for witnesses as he let himself in with the key Johnny had given him on their last night together. The building was small and the tenants all single, not the kind of people likely to get bent about overnight guests of either sex. Johnny had told him this, letting him know that he’d seen the neighbors do some interesting things over the years, but Murray still felt nervous. Watched, almost. He was glad to get inside and lock the door.

The apartment itself was small and neat, the kitchen spotless and the living room bright with the kind of plants that didn’t require a lot of care. Spider plants hung in the windows, and one sunny corner held a cluster of cacti that Murray didn’t recognize. Species from Johnny’s home state, maybe. He moved on to the bathroom, which was as spotless as the kitchen, and left his little gym bag there for later. He saved the bedroom for last and was not disappointed. The drapes and bedspread matched, bright ocean blue, and the furniture was a tasteful dark pine set. It was a pretty place, a place where Murray thought he could spend one or two comfortable nights a week. There wasn’t really room for two people, but he didn’t think he’d ever be more than a guest. And if it looked like it might be heading that way—but, no. Murray shook his head and left the bedroom. It was way too early to be thinking like that.

He went back to the kitchen and began going through cupboards and drawers, gathering up all the dishes and utensils he’d need to concoct his favorite spinach and cheese soufflé. It was hard to imagine Johnny having time to cook, but his pots and pans were real quality and he had enough fiddly bits of obscure equipment to stock a specialty shop. Murray had brought all of the ingredients and the soufflé pans, assuming that, worse case scenario, he could make do on the rest with eyeball estimates and his Swiss Army knife. But this was the best prepared kitchen Murray had ever been privileged to work in and he was vaguely ashamed of his doubts.

At two forty-five, he put the soufflé in the oven and went to take a shower. He’d brought his good clothes, black jeans and a white silk shirt that Cody had bought him for a casual dress party last year, and he put them on, admiring himself a little in the mirror. He’d lost some weight since the earthquake, and he needed a haircut, but he’d gotten his color back and thought he looked all right. He even remembered to leave the collar of his shirt unbuttoned, because Cody insisted it looked better that way. Johnny might be surprised to see him in silk with his hair combed, but he had even cooler things in store.

***

“Hey, Brown Eyes,” Johnny said as he stepped through the front door. “I wasn’t sure you’d really be here.”

Murray was standing at the counter, his back to the door, his bare right foot cocked behind the left, the vulnerable pink sole exposed. He turned around with a smile, pivoting right and bringing his heel down gracefully as his head came up.

“Whatever you’re making sure smells great. But you didn’t have to go to so much tr—” He stopped short and looked at Murray again. “You’re not wearing your glasses. Wow, you _do_ have beautiful eyes.”

“Contacts,” he said shyly. “I hardly ever wear them, but I don’t like wearing my glasses in bed and I—well, I wanted to be able to see you for a change.”

“Good idea. Do I have time for a shower before we eat? I just barely got off a fire scene before the shift changed and I didn’t want to make you wait. In case you were here.”

“You have thirty minutes. Try not to use them all.” He winked, an unbelievably sexy gesture without his geeky glasses, and Johnny wished he didn’t have to shower at all. But he was still sooty from the fire and didn’t want to smudge Murray’s snowy white shirt. Neither of them had cared about that kind of thing before, when they were on the boat and Murray’s wardrobe was based on convenience and necessity, but tonight was different. In spite of the number of times they’d already slept together, this was their first real date and the details mattered.

Johnny scrubbed himself thoroughly, shaved carefully, and dressed in blue jeans and a dark red flannel shirt, neatly tucked in. His wardrobe was sufficient to the life he led and it was geared more toward being comfortable than attracting a mate. Still, he thought he looked okay. For staying home, at least. And it wasn’t like they were going to have their clothes on for very long.

When he got back to the kitchen, there was ten minutes left on the timer and Murray was setting the table.

“Let me help with that. Should you even be on your feet right now?”

“I’m fine. You’re the one who’s been working for two days straight.”

Johnny watched closely as he moved between the table and the counters, and though Murray tended to rest with his weight on his left leg, there was barely a limp when he walked.

“Besides,” he continued as he opened a bottle of wine, “you need to rest up some. For later.”

“Believe me, I won’t be too tired,” Johnny said, but he did give in and sit down. Murray handed him a glass of wine and pulled up a chair beside him, turned at an angle so they could face each other.

“Want to tell me about your day? Or days? Gosh, it seems like I haven’t seen you in forever.”

“Yeah, I know. But it was okay. We had a couple fires and a mess of minor traffic incidents—nothing too major.”

“Not even the one this morning? You look awfully tired.”

“It wasn’t too bad. One minor injury and a lot of wall venting. But you don’t want to hear about that. Tell me what the doctor said.”

“Not much. He told me to take it easy—no jogging, wrestling, heavy lifting—basically don’t start doing any of the things I never did before.”

“Is that really all he said?” Johnny asked doubtfully.

“Well, you know. Tylenol as needed, follow up in a month, call if I have any trouble. The usual routine.”

“I know the routine,” he laughed, his worried expression slipping easily into self-deprecation. Then the oven timer went off and Murray put down his glass.

“I forgot the salad. It’s in the fridge, if you want to grab it for me.”

Johnny did, and they sat down to what turned out to be a remarkable meal. It led naturally to washing dishes together before moving to the living room. Neither felt like watching TV, but there was plenty to talk about now that neither was hungry and Murray didn’t have to worry about the state of his soufflé. Conversation led even more naturally to cuddling and kissing, and when Murray started to unbutton the flannel shirt, Johnny suggested they go to bed.

“Give me one minute,” Murray said and went into the bathroom to get his bag.

“We’re not into props already, are we?” Johnny asked, trying to sound flip despite the catch in his throat.

“Not exactly. I just wasn’t sure how much contact you’d be comfortable with. And we’ll need lube.”

“I wondered about that, but I figured you’d, you know, have it covered.”

“I do. And I appreciate your trust.”

“Well, you’ve put a lot of trust in me,” Johnny said humbly. He was sitting on the bed, his knees pulled up, feet together, looking delightfully shy.

“You saved my life,” Murray reminded him, sitting down and looking him in the eye. “You held my hand when I thought I was dying and stayed beside me through the scariest time of my life.”

“That was my job.”

“The hotel was your job. Staying with me on the boat and taking care of me, making me eat real meals and sit in the sun, that was something else entirely. I’ll always trust you.” He stroked Johnny’s flushed cheek lightly, encouraging him to raise his head and then kissing him when he did.

“I do love you,” Johnny whispered, pressing his cheek to Murray’s. “And I’m ready for whatever you want.”

“Don’t worry. You didn’t have any trouble before. You were great the other night,” he added, tickling Johnny’s throat as he craftily slipped his shirt buttons.

“Was I?”

“Uh-huh.” He peeled back the flannel and kissed one darkly tanned shoulder. “Everything you do is great.”

Johnny gave him a smile he was learning to recognize, one that meant he secretly agreed but wasn’t going to say so, for modesty’s sake. Murray loved that smile and leaned in quick to kiss it before it changed to something else. Johnny’s hand moved to his neck and held him still as the kiss shifted from sweet to eager. His hesitance drained away under Murray’s calm confidence, allowing him to dominate while still following Murray’s lead.

The silk was soft under his hands and he felt Murray shiver as he slipped it off. Johnny eased him down on his back and kissed his bare chest tenderly, flicking his tongue lightly over sensitive nipples. Murray sighed happily, running his fingers through Johnny’s thick hair, careful not to restrain him. He might be in charge, but what Murray wanted most was to see where his lover’s curiosity would lead them.

Johnny unbuckled Murray’s belt with sure fingers and eased his jeans down, grinning at the sight of the familiar silk boxers. He touched Murray lightly, stroking his erection through the thin fabric. Murray lifted his hips in invitation and reached for Johnny’s belt.

“Not going too fast, are we?” he whispered.

“No, I think it’s just about right,” Johnny said, kissing his stomach with undue seriousness. He pulled Murray’s shorts off and wandered lower, licking and nipping, tasting salt and soap and the clean musk of unashamed arousal. “Can I make you come, or will that interfere with your plans?”

“Either way is good. Just—how long do you want to wait?”

“Not very.”

So Murray sat up and turned the tables on him, pushing him back against the headboard and coaxing him out of his clothes. Johnny’s body lacked the easy pliability that Murray displayed—he was a strong man and accustomed to relying on his strength—but he found he could submit to this. Holding the warm, willowy body to his chest, letting Murray be on top as they kissed and explored, fearing nothing from him in spite of the fact that they were moving steadily toward sex acts that Johnny had never even seen in porn. Not that it would’ve been hard to get, but in his line of work he felt like he had to be careful about what he brought into his apartment. He couldn’t have anything there that he wouldn’t want everyone to see if he died suddenly.

“Jeez, Murray, that’s nice,” he sighed, even as he tried to encourage him to tighten his grip.

“I don’t want you too excited,” Murray said in explanation. “Nice is good enough for now.”

“Not too excited, huh? What are you gonna do?”

“I’m going to show you how fuck me, of course,” he said with a disarming giggle. “You need to be hard enough for penetration, but not so desperate that you won’t last. I’ve really been looking forward to this and I want it to take as long as possible.”

“You’ve been looking forward to it?” Johnny repeated, fondling him lightly.

“Haven’t you?”

“I guess I’m still just a little bit scared.”

“There’s no reason to be,” Murray whispered. “It’ll be good. I promise. There’s just one thing we need to decide before we go any further. I need a certain amount of—preparation—and there are a few ways to accomplish it.”

“What do you normally do?”

“Well, normally I do this with more experienced men and they like to—to take care of it. But I don’t know where you stand on butt-play, so I’d totally understand if you didn’t want to finger me your first time.”

“What are your other options?” Johnny asked, his voice low and husky with desire, but still oddly teasing.

“I can do it myself, but I don’t really like to. My fingertips are so sensitive, my brain ends up concentrating on what they’re feeling rather than processing the messages from other, more interesting, nerves. So that’s not much fun. What I’d really like, if you don’t want to touch me, is for you to use a dildo. You might enjoy that, too. It’s kind of fun to watch.”

“I—I could do that,” he said, flushing with hot desire at the very idea. Suddenly he wanted very badly to see Murray penetrated before assuming the full responsibility of doing it in the mindless throes of passion.

“I know you can.” Murray leaned over and picked up his bag, unzipping it casually in his lap. He took out a tube of K-Y, a box of wet-naps, and a flexible gel penis about half the size of the real one that would follow. He laid these things on the bed and slid out of Johnny’s lap with a final kiss, stretching out on his belly and crossing his arms beneath his head.

“You don’t want me to—I thought you were going to be on top?”

“I am. But not for this part. It’s better if you can see what you’re doing when you’re using tools, right?”

“I love how practical you are,” Johnny laughed. “So tell me what to do.”

Murray instructed him very briefly on how much lube to use and how slowly he should proceed. He flinched at the cold when it touched him, but the excitement warmed him quickly and he moaned as the firm rubber slipped inside.

“Does it hurt?”

“No,” he said, his voice only slightly strained. “It’s good, and it’ll be better in a minute.”

“Is it this hard every time?” Johnny asked, worried. “I thought you got used to it…”

“It’s been a long time. I’ll get used to it again.”

Johnny, adept at recognizing signs of pain, wasn’t so sure. He pressed on gently, carefully, fascinated despite himself by Murray’s soft moans and subtle writhing. It was hard to believe this was really good for him, rather than just something he needed to “get used to”, but there were definite signs of pleasure mixed with the hints of pain. Johnny tried to work with him, pausing when he tensed, pressing forward when he pushed back into it, all the while petting his smooth ass and scarred thighs. Those scars kept him oddly grounded, reminding him of both the strength and vulnerability of the sensitive body before him.

“Are you sure that’s okay?”

“I’m sure. Don’t stop, love. Just a little more and it’ll be—be—oh…” He trailed off with a sigh as Johnny found his prostate.

“Still okay?”

“Excellent,” he murmured, thrusting languidly into the mattress and forcing the flexible rubber deeper. “But I don’t want to come like this, so you’d better stop. Just drop it in the trash and I’ll wash it later,” he added, efficient to the end. But his voice wasn’t quite steady, and when he sat up, his eyes were shining with excitement.

They decided to use a condom, at least this first time, so Johnny might last a little longer, and Murray sucked him to full hardness before rolling it on. He applied a little lube and guided Johnny into the position he wanted, back against the headboard, legs slightly spread. Murray knelt over him and mounted him carefully, taking him slowly into his body as Johnny lay still, biting his lip, watching his lover’s expressive face for any small flicker of the pain he must surely be feeling.

But Murray’s shy smile and distant eyes were all about pleasure, despite the obvious effort it was costing him. Johnny had thought the foreplay was meant to ease the way, and perhaps it did a little, but Murray’s body was still tight, his smooth, hot grip the most intense thing he’d ever felt. His hands fell to Murray’s hips, encouraging him to give more, and he did so eagerly, with growing abandon.

It went on that way, tortuously slow, until Murray’s soft groans broke into whimpers of anxious need. Johnny wasn’t quite familiar enough with the sounds of good sex to identify the nuances, and he shifted his hold to hug Murray around the waist. But Murray wasn’t hurt. He grabbed the top of the headboard and thrust harder, forcing Johnny to fuck him the way he liked best, pounding his tender gland to the brink of orgasm.

Johnny came first, dropping his head to Murray’s bony shoulder, biting his throat to stifle his cries. Murray thrust frantically against the washboard stomach, desperate to come before it was too late. Johnny felt his need and wrapped a hand around his cock, pumping it hard and fast, groaning anew at the sudden tension in Murray’s body that squeezed him so exquisitely. Murray bucked wildly, slamming both of them into the headboard, and came with a strangled groan. For a few moments they stayed that way, bodies joined and embracing, trying to gather their senses and recover their breath.

“Did that really not hurt?” Johnny asked when he could speak.

“It really didn’t. Couldn’t you tell?” Murray laughed weakly as he pulled himself off and cleaned them up with wet-naps.

“You’re an amazing guy, Brown Eyes.”

“I’m glad you think so.” He stretched out and laid his head on Johnny’s chest, shivering pleasantly as a strong arm wrapped around his shoulders. “So, that’s what it’s like. Was it okay for you?”

“Do I even need to answer that? God, Murray, it was about the best thing ever. I mean, I thought that the first night, but—I don’t even know the words for this.”

“That sounds complimentary, at least.”

“It is. I can’t promise that I’ll be able to—reciprocate, but that was really incredible.”

“You don’t have to do anything, Johnny. I mean, nothing you don’t want to do. I’m perfectly happy with whatever you like.”

“Are you really that easy?” he teased, kissing Murray lightly on the forehead.

“You know I’m only easy for you.”

“Well, now I do. So, does that mean I can be on top sometime?”

“Whenever you want. I might mention that I especially like kneeling by the bed, and bending over tables. But we can experiment and see what you prefer.”

“I like the sound of that. Is there a—a waiting period?”

“For what?”

“Well, if I could get it up again tonight, would you be interested, or is it too soon?”

“Oh, no. There’s no waiting period. Just whenever we both feel like it. And tonight, I’m sure I will.” He tipped his head back for a kiss that lingered, full of promise.

“How’s your leg?” Johnny asked suddenly. “You didn’t strain it, did you? All this isn’t too much?”

“It’s fine. A little bit sore, maybe, but that’s to be expected. Nothing a nap won’t cure.”

“If you say so.” Johnny didn’t really believe it, but he was sleepy and it sounded like Murray was, too. He’d worry about the stiff leg when they woke.

***

Murray dozed all evening in his lover’s arms, waking long after dark to find Johnny watching him in the dim light from the reading lamp.

“You haven’t been awake all this time, have you?” he yawned. He started to rub his eyes, remembered his contacts, and then very carefully pressed his fingertips into the corners instead.

“Off and on. I like watching you sleep. You look like an angel.”

“Don’t be silly,” Murray said, blushing.

“It’s true. But I’ve always thought you were an angel.”

“If I’d known you’d go all mushy on me, I’d have found a way to let you nail me weeks ago,” he said, sitting up and stretching his arms over his head. Johnny was unable to resist tickling him, running his fingers lightly up Murray’s ribs and being rewarded with a giggle and a stifled snort. “That’s enough of that. I need to, uh, hit the head, and then the rest of the night is up to you. We can sleep, make love, or whip up a chocolate soufflé. I have all the stuff.”

“They all sound good. How about you start the soufflé and we can make love while it’s in the oven?”

“You have such an organized mind.” Murray bent and kissed the smiling mouth before climbing out of bed. He pulled on his jeans and padded barefoot from the room. After a few minutes, Johnny got up and followed.

It didn’t take long for Murray to get dessert in the oven, and when he set the timer, they had forty minutes. Johnny assured him they’d hear the buzzer in the bedroom and Murray went along happily. He’d rather have sex than food, anyway.

Johnny got him out of his jeans again in a hurry, holding him down this time, kissing and biting, tickling until Murray begged him to stop. They were both achingly hard, neither quite sure what form their lovemaking might take but eager to find out.

“I know I said whatever you want,” Murray whispered, “but I have a little fantasy that could be included in just about any scenario.”

“Baby, I would love to include your fantasy. But talk fast. We’re on the clock.” He laughed softly, blowing across Murray’s nipple and making him shiver.

“Ever since we met, since the hotel, I’ve wanted you to, you know, wear gloves. When you touch me.”

“A medical fantasy? I can do that. If I can find gloves, that is.”

“There are some in my bag,” Murray said, somehow making latex sound flirtatious.

“Awesome.” He dug in the bag and found them without having to get up. He pulled them on with a quick, practiced snap and caressed his lover in a way he had never before used while wearing gloves. The latex dragged on Murray’s skin, making him shudder pleasantly, his cock throbbing and his nipples impossibly hard. Johnny pressed his lips to Murray’s throat, feeling his pulse race, tasting salt sweat and passion. “Tell me what to do. How do you want it?”

“On the floor. And use your hands this time. I only want to feel you.”

Johnny slid off the bed and pulled Murray into his lap, stroking the length of his body, kissing him as he trembled. For a moment it was enough to sit there together, pressed skin to skin, gathering themselves for the next step. When they moved it was in unison, as if they’d practiced this before—Murray rising up on his knees to face the bed, Johnny behind him reaching over his shoulder for the lube. He coated two fingers, hoping it wouldn’t take more. He desperately wanted to feel that breathtaking tightness again.

“Do you want me to use a condom? Because I think I could hold out all right without it.”

“Totally up to you,” Murray sighed, spreading his legs as the slender fingers breached him. “I trust you, love.”

Johnny felt a slight stirring of anxiety, the idea that he should insist for Murray’s sake mingled with an unformed fear that his sweet, gentle lover might trust too much, but he pushed it away. He was careful, he’d had his tests, and he trusted Murray to do the same.

Then Murray groaned and the sound swept all other thoughts from his head. The narrow hips shifted, pressing down on his hand, smooth muscles clenching around his fingers, and that time they groaned together.

“Deeper,” he whispered. “Deeper and—and bend your finger. There’s a little bump… Oh, god, yes. Right there. Press hard—harder…” He trailed off with a choking gasp as Johnny obeyed, his fingers so gentle and adept that no one would have guessed this was his first time.

He massaged the small gland firmly while stroking Murray’s weeping cock, smoothing the latex with pre-come, all the while nearly undone by his lover’s sobbing moans. His heart leapt into his throat when Murray said he was ready, his tone all pleading need, and he was shaking as he withdrew his hand and pulled off the glove with a brisk snap. But he put on a fresh one to maintain the fantasy and Murray sighed again when it touched him. Then Johnny’s thick, naked shaft was sliding into him and they groaned together once more. He reached around and gripped Murray’s cock with a lightly slicked, gloved hand, and Murray bucked swiftly into it. Johnny followed, pushing him up against the bed, shoving into him faster than he’d intended. The incredible silky heat was more than he could resist, so much more intense than it had been through a ribbed Trojan. But Murray took it easily, clenching his ass and moving into the stroke with an eager cry. Johnny let him set the pace, jerking and thrusting in time to the bold rhythm, all the while biting Murray’s sharp shoulder blade to keep from shouting his pleasure to the heavens. Or at least the neighbors.

“Oh, so good,” Murray sobbed out, hooking his feet over Johnny’s legs for better leverage. “God, dear god, so good. Don’t stop, Johnny, Johnny, god, don’t stop.” He went on babbling, speeding the rhythm, swirling his hips as he pulled away and slamming back hard as Johnny squeezed his twitching cock.

Murray came first, biting his forearm to hold back a scream, and Johnny rode him through it without slacking the pace. Then he wrapped his arms tight around Murray’s waist, hauling him back against his chest and coming deep inside him. For a few seconds they were frozen there, Murray straddling Johnny’s thighs, lying limply in his arms, both of them shuddering from the aftershock.

“Okay?” Johnny whispered, nuzzling his throat.

“I’m great,” Murray sighed. “That was amazing.” He pulled away slowly, darts of hot pleasure/pain shooting through his body, and leaned weakly against the bed.

“Yeah? It didn’t hurt?” Johnny asked, reaching for the wet-naps. He cleaned them both deftly and took off his gloves.

“Not even a little. You were great.” He turned and snuggled into Johnny’s lap, giving his throat a lick.

“You think so?”

“Why not? First time sex is usually pretty special.”

“But it won’t always be the first time.”

“No, but when the thrill of novelty has worn off, you’ll be educated and experienced and we’ll know exactly how to please each other.”

“So you won’t get tired of teaching me?” he asked, a note of sincerity almost hidden beneath the teasing.

“Never. But right now I want a shower, and the soufflé will be ready in ten minutes.”

“Can I join you, or are you relishing your newly recovered privacy?”

“Yes to both. I love my privacy, but I also want to see you all soapy and wet.”

“Fair enough.”

Johnny helped him up and they walked to the bathroom naked, hand in hand.

***

The oven timer was going off when they got out of the tub. Murray dried off quickly and took Johnny’s robe when it was offered. He didn’t know how long the timer had been buzzing and was in a hurry to save the soufflé. Johnny dried himself more slowly and put his jeans back on. He sauntered into the kitchen just in time for Murray to hand him a bowl of fluffy soufflé, drizzled with chocolate liquor sauce.

“You’ll sit down now and take a break, right?” he asked rhetorically, taking the bowl.

“I just had a nap,” Murray said, folding his long body into a chair, one foot on the seat and the other tucked under him.

“If you can do that,” Johnny said, sitting down beside him, “you’re too thin.” He tasted the soufflé, seemed to think about it for a few seconds, and then took a bigger bite. “Damned if I know why, though, cooking like this.”

“I don’t get to cook fancy meals very often. And I guess I have a high metabolism, because I pretty much eat whatever I want. When I remember to, at least.”

“When you remember. That explains it.”

“Big talk from a fellow skinny man,” Murray replied complacently.

“But mine’s all muscle.”

“Now you’re just bragging.”

“Are you trying to start a fight?” Johnny asked innocently, smiling his crooked smile.

“Me? Never.” He reached over and wiped a dab of sauce from Johnny’s lip with his finger, licking it off reflectively. Johnny’s eyes widened and a faint blush crept up his neck. Murray smiled, coyly biting his finger.

“You know I’m probably too old to go three times in one day,” he said at last.

“So am I,” Murray laughed. “But teasing you is fun.”

“Can you stay the night? Because we can get an early start in the morning.”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

***

Johnny woke from a sound sleep to find himself alone in the middle of his double bed. He’d fallen asleep four hours ago with Murray snuggled under his arm, full of chocolate and looking forward to making love again when the sun came up. Somehow he’d slept through Murray getting up and sneaking away, and sneaking was how he thought of it. Even if he’d just gone to the bathroom, Johnny vaguely resented not being woken. He sat up and listened for the sound of running water or the click of a door latch, but heard nothing. Suddenly he was afraid that Murray was gone; that he’d just picked up and left in the dead of night for reasons of his own. Johnny leapt out of bed, grabbed a pair of boxers from the dresser, and hopped into them on his way out of the room.

The bathroom door stood open so he headed for the kitchen, thinking Murray might have had a craving for leftover soufflé. But he didn’t get that far. Murray was in the living room, sitting sideways in a chair, his arms crossed on the back, staring out the window with his chin on his wrist.

“Murray? Baby, what are you doing out here? Aren’t you cold?”

“I’m okay,” he muttered. He was wearing Johnny’s robe again, but the way he was contorted in the chair, most of his skin was still exposed.

“Then why aren’t you in bed?”

Murray’s posture was telling him plainly to stay away, but Johnny didn’t take that from anyone. He could be soothing or forceful, sweet talk his way in or make a mad grab, but he always caught people, whether they wanted him to or not. And right now it looked like Murray needed catching.

He approached his lover slowly and steadily, deciding against sudden moves for now, and Murray pretended not to notice. Even when he perched on the arm of the chair, his knees against Murray’s ribs, the only response was studied indifference. He didn’t get a real reaction until he put his hands on Murray’s shoulders and felt the tension quivering just beneath the skin.

“Baby, why don’t you tell me what’s wrong?” he asked softly. Murray tensed even further and leaned away but the strong hands held on. “Did I do something? Are you angry? Or sick? Did you eat too much hard sauce?”

“I’m fine,” Murray said again, but his voice trembled, showing the lie. Johnny moved closer, sliding his arms around Murray’s neck and encouraging him to lean back. But the knobby spine remained rigid against his chest, as if to relax at all would lead to a complete collapse.

“Well, I hate to argue with a genius, Brown Eyes, but I don’t think so. At least come back to bed. You’re shivering.”

“Go on without me, John. It’s all right. I just need to be alone.”

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. I’d probably just lie there and worry about you all night, anyway. Why don’t you tell me what’s on your mind so I can rest easy?”

“Talking about it wouldn’t help either of us,” he said flatly, still not turning his face from the window.

“You don’t know that for sure,” Johnny said, digging his thumbs gently into Murray’s stiff neck.

“You’re always on, aren’t you? You think you can fix everything, like—like splinting a broken bone or putting out a fire, but you can’t. Some things just have to take care of themselves, don’t they?”

“Not many things do that I know of. Please, Murray, this isn’t easy for me, either. In about five minutes I’m going to start thinking it’s personal, no matter what you say.”

“Well, it isn’t. It’s not you. It’s—it’s about Ted, all right? I feel guilty being here with you, letting you have me like—like this. I—I haven’t been with anyone since he died and—and I love you, but I still miss him sometimes. And that’s not really the kind of thing I can talk to you about, is it?”

“What? No, of course it is.” He shifted on the arm of the chair, easing Murray’s body back between his thighs and cradling him to his chest. Some of the stiffness went out of Murray’s spine and he let himself be held.

“You don’t want to hear about my old lovers,” he scoffed, but there was something vaguely hopeful in it.

“Not all of them, no. But he was special, wasn’t he? You were going to spend the rest of your lives together. That’s not the same as telling me the details of every one night stand.”

“It didn’t feel like cheating when we started. I was hurt and scared and you took care of me in every way that I needed,” Murray said slowly. “And I fell in love and that was okay. I know that I’m allowed to have love in my life. But waking up in _your_ bed—that just suddenly felt like taking things too far. And I know it’s not wrong, I know I’m being stupid, but I just—I suddenly felt so _sad_.”

“Baby, that’s all right. It really is. You’re allowed to feel sad. Just don’t disappear on me, okay?” His tone was so kind, so full of understanding, that Murray finally turned and pressed his head to Johnny’s shoulder. He was wearing his glasses and took them off to hide his eyes. Johnny felt him start to shake and pressed his cheek to Murray’s tousled head, enfolding him and keeping him safe.

“You’re not mad?”

“Of course not. I’m just worried about you. Murray, you said it didn’t feel like cheating ‘when we started’. Does that mean it does now?”

“No—not—not really. I just feel kind of—wrong.”

“Yeah? So tell me something. Would your Ted have wanted you to be happy? Would he have expected you to stay at home and be sad forever, or would he have wanted you to go on and have a life?”

“He always wanted me to be happy,” Murray sighed. “He used to worry about what would happen to me when he died, since he was so much older. He was afraid I’d end up, you know, wasting my youth.”

“Sounds like he loved you a lot.”

“He did. I think I might have been the love of his life.”

“He was a lucky guy. So, do you think he would’ve liked me?”

“I don’t know. Ted didn’t like many people, and you’re so young and handsome and cheerful. Sometimes that pissed him off. On the other hand, he really respected people who’re good at their jobs. He’d have admired your skill and dedication, even if your sense of humor was a little off-putting. Anyway, he didn’t like me at first, either.”

“But he wouldn’t hate me for helping you be happy again?”

“No, I’m sure he’d be—grateful. Like I am.”

“All right, then.” They were quiet for a few minutes, looking out the window at the streetlights and sparse, middle-of-the-night traffic. Murray was trembling a little, and when Johnny touched his exposed leg he found it chilly with gooseflesh. “Are you ready to go back to bed? You’re pretty cold.”

“I guess.” he said, turning around and finally taking in the fact that his lover was nearly naked. He ran his hand lightly over Johnny’s chest and down his legs, marveling as he always did over the completely smooth skin. He’d never known a man with less body hair and it fascinated him. “Are you cold?”

“Not really. But I’d still rather be in bed. And I swear I don’t mean anything by that.”

Murray laughed, slipping his arms around Johnny’s waist and hugging him tight.

“I feel much better now,” he murmured. “Let’s go to bed.”

“Don’t forget your glasses. I don’t want you walking into any walls.”

Murray put them on and let Johnny pull him out of the chair. The slender arm was comforting around his shoulders, strong and secure as they returned to the bedroom. Both of them climbed into bed naked and Murray opened his arms readily to his lover. Johnny kissed him softly, moving into his embrace as Murray responded. His touch was gentle, the weight of his body slight, his growing erection pressed lightly to Murray’s belly but making no demands. He was waiting for Murray to make the demand, and after a moment he did.

It was a tentative demand at best—more of a request, really—a subtle shifting of his hips, a gentle lift and thrust than Johnny matched easily, applying no force. They caressed each other with the full length of their bodies, easy and sweet, feeling every inch of skin, igniting every nerve ending to a low, slow burn. Murray’s hands sought purchase on Johnny’s sweat-slicked back, slipping and sliding but never digging in his nails. Johnny cradled the back of his neck in one hand, adding the slightest touch of urgency to his kisses. His other hand stroked Murray’s hip, tickling him, making him flinch and buck, suffusing them both with feverish heat.

Johnny changed the angle of his body slightly, slotting his cock in the hollow of Murray’s pelvis, gasping against his mouth at the sudden shock of sensation. He felt his lover rise up against him, suddenly strong in his eagerness, and Johnny pushed back, holding him down, pinning him with broad shoulders and unhurried thrusts. When Murray’s stifled moans turned to high-pitched whimpers, Johnny slipped his hand between them and squeezed the length of their shafts together. His grip was firm but sloppy, sliding in the sweat and sticky-slick semen, making it easy to run his palm over the head of Murray’s cock as he stroked. Murray clung to him, sobbing weakly through kisses that stole his breath away as Johnny teased his orgasm from him, spinning it out slowly, driving him to tears and kissing them away as he came.

Johnny lay still, covering Murray with his body until the clenching fingers on his back let go. When they did, he rolled off and reached first for the tissues, then drew Murray’s right leg up over his hip so he could massage the twitching muscle. It was too much exertion for the first day, he was sure, and Murray’s uneven panting seemed to confirm his opinion.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he murmured as his fingers dug expertly into the narrow thigh.

“Never better. Well, a little thirsty, maybe. But still, never better.”

“I’ll get you a glass of water. After all that hard work, you might be a little dehydrated.” He worked the stiff muscle for another minute, then kissed Murray softly and got up. Slipping into his robe, he left the room without belting it and went into the kitchen where he kept a jug of water in the fridge. He poured a glass, drank it down, and refilled it before putting the jug away, assuming that Murray wouldn’t mind sharing. But when he got back with the water, Murray was already asleep. Johnny set the glass on the nightstand, took off the robe, and climbed into bed. As he pulled the covers up over himself, Murray sighed and moved unconsciously into his arms.

Johnny decided that meant his insecurities had been overcome and he held his lover tenderly, confidently, the rest of the night.


End file.
